Legend: Book Two
by Stormlight
Summary: KC has made it home, but she won't be staying long. Things are going well and, by some twist of fate, she even managed to avoid her biggest problem: explaining where she's been all this time. Too bad she's got even bigger problems heading her way. Sigh.
1. Reasserting Reality

_And here we are, with the first chapter of the second book (title pending). These chapters will probably be slow in coming, as I write and post as inspiration strikes me (which is sadly a lot less often than I like lately). Bear with me. It'll get finished. Eventually._

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><p><strong>One<br>Reasserting Reality**

KC regained consciousness surrounded by a familiar, musty smell of dust, mildew, and ancient books. She found herself sprawled uncomfortably on the hard, rough surface of a concrete floor. Her face felt wet, and she reached up to wipe her cheek, realizing to her embarrassment that she'd been drooling. "Urgh. What a headache," she grumbled, wiping at her face with her sleeve and stiffly sitting up.

And then reality reasserted itself, and discomfort was forgotten as she realized where she was. She was back! She'd actually made it home! She allowed herself a very girlish squeal and a full-body wriggle, kicking the floor excitedly for a few moments. The library basement was a welcome sight, and she heaved a sigh of relief that she had gotten back to the right place. To her surprise, both of the heavy books she'd pulled off the shelf with _The Universe of the Four Gods_ still lay on the floor where she'd left them. The small red book lay open, and she cautiously nudged it closed with her foot, not willing to chance any more surprise trips to the past just yet.

"Doesn't anybody ever pick up around this place?" she complained as she re-shelved the two thick volumes. She reached for _The Universe of the Four Gods_ to place it back with the others, then hesitated. She didn't really want to let the book out of her sight. She debated with herself for a moment. For one thing, who knew if she'd be able to gain access to the basement again once she left it. For another, if _she'd_ found it, who was to say someone else wouldn't stumble across it, as well? By the looks of the place, people didn't come in the room very often, but was she willing to chance the book disappearing on her?

Then again, would it really be a horrible thing if it _did_?

The small, traitorous thought slipped past before she could catch it, and she gave herself a stern mental shake, immediately feeling guilty. Right. That's it. The book would just have to come along. She looked around until she located her backpack, propped against the shelves a few feet away. Relieved to see that it had once again safely made the trip with her (No chance of recovery if it ever fell into the Twilight Zone), she pulled it to her and opened it. There was barely any room inside the overstuffed bag, what with everything else she had crammed in it. Her textbooks, her purse and other personal belongings. A few small trinkets from Konan. She managed to rearrange things enough to slip the book between the pages of her water-stained sketchbook, making sure it was well-hidden from potential prying eyes.

She paused, shaking her head. "Fantastic," she snorted. "I've stooped to stealing a dusty old book out of a library. What an impressive start to my life of crime."

Everything seemed in order. She slung the pack over her shoulder and headed for the door, already thinking up the potential excuses she'd need. She knew she'd never get away with just waltzing into her house after a month's absence, as if she'd just come home from the mall or something. Her mom would be frantic. There might be police there. Or reporters.

Or maybe nobody, because everyone thought she was dead and had moved on with their lives.

She grimaced and gave herself a shake to shed that particular idea from her brain. She wasn't dead. She was back. And she was gonna have a hell of a lot of explaining to do once everyone figured out those two facts. She didn't even know what to say that wouldn't make her sound like a complete loony. Maybe it would be best to just claim amnesia about the whole experience, since any other excuse would probably earn her a one-way ticket to the nearest padded room and a fashionable I-love-me jacket.

Nodding resolutely to herself, she snatched her coat off the chair as she passed … and abruptly froze in her tracks, staring at the garment in her hands. Her coat. Still slung over the back of the chair. _Exactly_ the way she'd left it. As if it had never been touched. Her confusion grew, taking form in an inarticulate, "Whu—?"

Something was seriously … _off_ about all this. First the old (assumingly valuable) books, still on the floor. Now her coat, still over the chair. It was right in front of the door, no way anyone could have missed it coming in or out. If they knew it was hers, they'd have taken it for evidence or something, wouldn't they? Had anyone been in the room at _all_ since she disappeared? Her mutilated body could be rotting down there, for all they knew!

More than a little mystified, KC hurried through the creepy part of the basement and snuck up the stairs to the first floor, trying to avoid any noise. She cracked open the door, glad to see the lights were still on. That meant the library was still open, which meant she could sneak out without looking _too_ suspicious. She crept out of the stairwell and closed the door behind her, making sure to lock it, then tiptoed her way through the stacks until she could see the huge, ancient grandfather clock standing near the checkout desk. It read four-forty-five; fifteen minutes before closing. She could see through the tall windows that the light was almost gone, settling into winter twilight.

Somebody was whistling, and Charley turned the corner, making his rounds, his flashlight swinging idly in one hand. He paused to grace her with a smile. "Afternoon, KC," he greeted casually, tipping his security guard cap politely, before inserting his key in the lock to open the door. "Merry Christmas!" he threw over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs.

KC stared after him, wide-eyed. "M-Merry … _Christmas_?" she repeated dumbly, slowly turning around and making her way toward Mrs. Potter's desk. The librarian wasn't there, but that wasn't anything unusual; she only worked a few days a week. And it was better for KC, since she could put the keys back without having to answer a lot of nosy questions. She slipped behind the desk and opened the drawer to drop the keys inside. And that was when she noticed the one-a-day calendar sitting atop the box-like computer monitor.

She froze, her gaze fixed on the date. She blinked, rubbed her eyes repeatedly, and looked again. No, the date clearly read Friday, December 23. Exactly the same day it had been when she'd left. "What is going _on_ here?" she cried, slamming the drawer shut and jumping at the preceding bang. She cringed and hastily turned, nearly bolting for the front exit, out the doors into the … _really frigid_ winter air. It hit her like a sack of needles, driving a flurry of snowflakes into her face. "_Cold!_" she yelped, cringing back into the doorway and hastily donning her coat. After spending so much time in the tropical-like Konan, she had almost forgotten it was still mid-winter in her own world. Now she nearly regretted coming back again as she hunched her shoulders against the chill wind and made her way to the nearest bus stop. She _really_ hated being cold.

* * *

><p>On the short walk from the bus stop to her house, KC pondered her odd dilemma. She'd seen the date again on a discarded newspaper, and had even asked the elderly bus driver what day it was. Now she was left wondering how it was possible to have spent entire weeks in Konan, and barely two hours had passed in her own world. Perhaps Taiitsukun had used some time-travel technique on her to send her back to right after she'd left? That made as much sense as anything, she supposed. Wasn't that a bit dangerous though? What if Taiitsukun had accidentally dropped her off <em>before<em> she even left, and she ended up running into herself? According to just about every sci-fi movie she'd ever watched, _that_ could cause some sort of implosion in the space/time continuum and completely alter the universe as she knew it. Plus, she'd like cease to exist or something.

Of course, maybe that _couldn't_ happen, because it already _would_ have. She would've already seen herself before she'd left to begin with and would've imploded or … something. Which meant Konan never would've happened and … now she was only giving herself a migraine. KC grimaced and rubbed her forehead. How did Kimiko always think like this without her _brain_ imploding?

At that moment, the house came into view, and all thoughts of sci-fi and time travel and imploding realities vanished as KC gave a little squeal and broke into a run. She was overcome with the sudden urge to hug the house as she skipped up its narrow path to the front door with its decorative, obligatory Christmas wreath that looked as if it had seen better days a few decades ago. She resisted only because she'd never get her arms around it. And also because the neighbors would look at her funny. But she couldn't keep the huge grin from her face as she threw open the door and bounced inside with a resounding shout of, "I'm home!"

Of course nobody answered her; it was only quarter after five, and her mom wouldn't be home from work until seven, at least. Still, it just felt so good to _say_ that again! She pounded up the stairs, making as much noise as she could, flipped on every light switch she passed (because she knew her mother hated it), and threw open the door to her bedroom. She opened her pack and pulled _The_ _Universe of the Four Gods _from its hiding place, tossing it carelessly onto the desk. Just for extra measure, she threw her jacket over it, knocking a metal pencil holder off as she did so. It landed on the floor, spilling its contents across the worn carpet. She left it there and with one leap was sprawled across her bed with its squeaky hinges and its ratty Holly Hobby comforter that she _refused_ to throw away just because it was an antique (in her opinion, anyway). She clutched a bedraggled Cabbage Patch Kid that had seen its share of too many haircuts to her chest, and simply lay on her back and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the familiar smell of her own place.

"I'm home," she whispered, hardly able to believe it, and she could feel hot tears squeezing at the back of her eyes. She kissed the dirty-faced doll and shoved it back in its place of honor—down between the bed and the wall—then sat up and looked around. Everything was exactly where she'd left it that morning so long ago, as if she'd never disappeared in the first place. The unicorn calendar on her wall was still on December, with every day up to the twenty-third marked off in varying colors of ink. No matter how hard it was to believe, it all suggested that she really had only been missing for a little while, and nobody would ever need to know she'd been gone at all. It suddenly made the thought of leaving again a lot easier to bear, knowing that she could do what she had to do and go home, and nobody would be the wiser.

A loud, low growl filled the silent room, and she giggled at herself as she crossed her arms over her grumbling stomach, realizing that she was _starving_. Jet lag had nothing on time-travel, she thought with a grin as she bounced off her bed and headed down the stairs. She paused at the foot to regard the plastic Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the living room. It, too, was looking a little worn around the edges, with a few missing limbs and ornaments that were probably older than KC. She'd always thought it was kind of ugly, especially compared to the elegantly-decorated trees displayed in store windows and her friends' living rooms.

Right now, she thought it was the most beautiful tree she'd ever seen.

The realization that she hadn't come back a month late, and therefore hadn't missed Christmas, cheered her immensely. She plugged in the tree's colorful lights, helping herself to a candy cane before heading to the kitchen. She sucked on the peppermint as she prepared her favorite comfort food; a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato and ham and a steaming bowl of homemade clam chowder. There was a note taped to the refrigerator door. When she read it, her good mood soured somewhat. Her mother wouldn't be home until late again. Another crisis at work that she had to handle right away, and she was sorry, but she would be home tomorrow to celebrate Christmas Eve.

"Promises, promises," KC grumbled, grabbing the lunchmeat and slamming the door, trying to ignore her disappointment. To everyone else it was business as usual, but to her it had been _ages_ since she'd seen her mom. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around her and hold on tight, but as usual, duty called. "I swear, for as much as her boss keeps depending on her to do all his work for him, _she__'__s_ the one who should be running the place!"

She made an extra sandwich and another bowl of soup, covered each with plastic wrap, and stuck them back in the fridge. Then she took her food back to the living room and sat cross-legged on the floor between the coffee table and the couch, flipping on the television for some mindless channel surfing. White Christmas was on, right at her favorite part near the end, when everyone was singing the title song and dancing in their beautiful costumes, so she sat back to enjoy the show. "Man, I missed this," she breathed as she took a bite of her sandwich, relishing in the peace and quiet and the fact that she didn't have to worry about never seeing her home again.

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><p>She woke up two hours later with a stiff neck and a headache, her head cocked at an uncomfortable angle against the seat cushion behind her. Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer was on the TV, and she carefully rubbed the kink out of her neck and scrubbed at her gritty eyes. Something had woken her; she thought it might have been the phone. The answering machine light was blinking, so she pushed the button, hoping it was a message from her mom that she'd be home soon. Instead, Brady's annoyed voice crackled over the speaker. "So, like, remember our plans to meet at the food court after you got all your research stuff done at the library? I hope you've got a good excuse for standing Kimi and me up, 'cause we waited for an <em>hour<em> and you never showed! And when I say 'good excuse', I'm talking about being dead or kidnapped by aliens or something drastic like that. Call me back. Bye!"

KC cracked up, reaching for the phone to dial her friend's cell.

"Okay, so what happened?" were the first words out of Brady's mouth when she answered.

"I found this old Chinese book in the library and got sucked into an alternate dimension through it," KC told her seriously. "I was gone for ages, and by the time I managed to get back I forgot all about the mall. Sorry about that."

There was silence on the other end. Then, "You do realize the kidnapped-by-aliens excuse was a joke, right?"

KC grinned. "Sure, but you never said anything about a giant flaming peacock."

"Okay, what have you been drinking? And save some for me!"

She laughed. "I am sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"You better! Listen, I gotta go. My house is a _zoo_. Told you all my relatives are coming here for Christmas, right? Including _way_ more little cousins than any one girl should be forced to put up with. I swear, they aren't kids. They're weapons of mass destruction! Can I come spend the night over there? Please, please, _pleeeeaaase_?"

"Oh, sure. It's nice and quiet here. You can help me with my research paper! I've got _lots_ of work to do on it."

"Actually, I think I'd better stay here and make sure the zoo doesn't blow up the house or something. But I'll be cheering you on! Later!" And the line disconnected.

KC snorted and hung up. "Chicken."

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><p><em>And so ends chapter one of book two. The next couple of chapters will be all about KC at home. Bear with me, she'll be getting back to Konan, but mundane stuff needs to happen first. Vital plot points and shiz like that. More coming soon!<em>


	2. You Have Some 'Splainin' to Do!

_Lookit that__! A new chapter! Did some light editing on the old one, too. Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>TWO<br>**"**You Have Some 'Splainin' to do!"**

KC woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking. She frowned, snuffling at the air. That didn't smell like fish and rice, her usual morning fare. It smelled a lot more like French toast. And scrambled eggs with cheese. And was that _maple sausage_? Her eyes popped open, memory flooding back when she was met with the welcome sight of her very own bedroom. It hadn't been a dream. She was back! Well, at least for a little while. Even better, it was Christmas Eve day, and she was home to celebrate it!

And since she'd been sleeping, _somebody_ had to be cooking breakfast, which meant her mom must be home! She scrambled out of bed and stuffed herself into the first outfit she found in the bottom of her closet, pounding down the stairs with all the grace of a stampeding moose. She missed a step, landing on her rump with a yelp and bouncing the last two or three steps to the floor. "Ow," she muttered, getting to her feet and wincing when her bruised tailbone protested. That didn't stop her from racing full-tilt to the kitchen, though.

"Merry Chris—!" she began, only to come to a screeching halt at the sight of a tall man standing in front of the stove, wearing her mom's frilly apron as he expertly flipped thick slices of battered bread over the griddle. "D-dad?" she stuttered, hardly able to believe what her eyes were seeing.

He looked up and grinned at her. "Hey, Kit Kat! How've you been? Well, look at you, I think you must've grown a bit since I last saw you!"

KC snorted a laugh. "Don't get your hopes up." Her gaze drifted to the dining room table, where her mother calmly sipped a cup of coffee. "Mom!" She bounced over and threw her arms around her mother, nearly making her spill coffee on herself. "I missed you! What an awesome surprise! You didn't tell me Dad was coming!"

"I would have, if I'd known," her mother replied. "It was just as much of a surprise for me, when the doorbell rang this morning." She shot her daughter an odd look. "What do you mean, missed me? You act like you haven't seen me in weeks."

"Oh, uh, well, you've been working so much lately I just kinda haven't seen you around, that's all," KC evaded.

"Still a workaholic, Annie? You should spend more time with KC."

Annie snorted, setting her mug down with a thump. "That's good advice, Chris. Coming from a man who hasn't deigned to call or write his daughter for almost a full year, now."

"Now, you know I have reasons why—"

"Stop it!" KC shifted when both parents looked at her, surprised. "Don't argue. It's Christmas Eve," she said softly.

"You're right, Kit Kat. No arguing today, promise." Chris made a zipping motion across his lips and held up one hand.

"That's great, Dad, but shouldn't you watch the food?"

He yelped as the toast he'd been neglecting began to smolder on the griddle, spewing smoke, while KC laughed at his attempts to fix the mess.

He managed to make a presentable breakfast and KC helped him carry everything over to the table. Even though the toast was slightly burnt, she wolfed it down. She'd _missed_ home-cooked, American food! Not that she didn't appreciate what she'd been given in … _that other place_, but really, a girl could only handle so much Chinese cuisine before she began to feel like she would sprout gills or start sneezing rice noodles out her nose.

They made small-talk while they ate. Well, she and her dad did, anyway. Her mom just sat there sipping her coffee and occasionally taking a bite of scrambled egg (she refused to touch the toast). Chris asked KC about school and how her friends were doing and whether she'd gotten a boyfriend yet. KC was hard-pressed to keep the blushes down at that last question; after all, Hotohori didn't _really_ count as a boyfriend, whether they'd made out or not.

"So, Dad, you'll be staying over for Christmas, right?" she asked, to distract him from any more nosy questions (apparently, she wasn't keeping the blushes down as well as she'd hoped; he was definitely suspicious).

There was a moment of silence as Chris took a large swallow of orange juice. "Well, actually, I only stopped by on my way back to San Francisco," he replied slowly. "I was in the area on business. But I have a flight back this afternoon. Your mom told you about my gallery display in New York, right?"

KC shoved down her disappointment. She wasn't really surprised to hear it. "Yeah, I saved some news clippings about it. I wish I could go to New York to see it myself."

"No need, there's another gallery display opening here in Boston next month. Much closer to home, right?" Her father was an up-and-coming artist, excelling in painting and dabbling in photography. He'd been chasing his dreams of becoming famous for years, since way before KC had been born. Before he and her mom had even met. Decades later, it was finally happening with his first showing being featured in one of Manhattan's biggest galleries. "Did you sell a lot of work?" KC asked. "How much did it go for?"

He smiled proudly, running a hand through his hair. "A few pieces so far, for a pretty good sum, actually. But even more importantly, the exposure has done wonders for my career." He cleared his throat. "Actually, there's some pretty good news I wanted to tell you. And I have a present for you, too." He reached under the table and withdrew a brightly-wrapped package in a silver gift bag. KC eagerly grabbed it, making short work of the green-and-gold foil paper. Her jaw dropped. "You got me a _cell phone_?" she squealed.

Her dad laughed. "Not just any phone. Top-of-the-line model! Has all the latest features."

"I know. Brady has this same model," KC breathed. "It's practically a computer!"

"I believe they're called smart phones these days," he teased.

"Chris, plans for those phones are expensive," Annie piped up, frowning. "KC doesn't have a job and I can't afford a hundred a month to pay for it! We barely make ends meet as it is."

"Not a problem. Phone is set up and ready for use. I put her on my plan, so it's covered."

"Dad! Thanks so much! You're the _best_!"

"From all the way in Italy?" Annie asked, her voice cold.

KC froze. "I-Italy?" She glanced at her mom, then back again. "What's she talking about?"

"Ah…" Chris shot his ex-wife a brief glare. "Th-that's part of the news I have to tell you," he admitted. "Due to the success of my art in Manhattan, I've been invited to display over in Rome and Paris, as well. But first, I need to create more pieces."

"And you have to move to Italy to do that?"

"It's the perfect environment for me to paint. The great artists lived there! It's rich in history and I know I'll be inspired to create even more beautiful pieces."

KC sank down in her chair, the food she'd just consumed sitting like a lead lump in the pit of her stomach. "So … when will you be coming back?"

"Well, you see, I was thinking of making Rome my permanent residence. There's, uh, something else I need to tell you, too."

"There's _more_?"

Her mother abruptly stood, kissing KC atop her head. "I'm afraid I have to head off to work now," she said, "so I'll leave you two to talk."

"Chicken," Chris muttered.

"You're working _today_?" KC protested.

"Only for a few hours. I promise I'll be home in time for dinner, and we'll go to a nice restaurant tonight, okay?"

"But—"

"No arguments, KC. You know how it has to be."

"Yes, ma'am." KC slumped further in her chair and glared at the phone box in front of her. When her mom was gone she switched her glare to her father. "So, what's the rest of the _good news_?"

He cleared his throat, reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a square of paper, sliding it across the table to KC. She picked it up, realizing it was a photograph, probably taken by her dad's own hand. It portrayed a woman and two teenaged girls who both looked to be around KC's age. All three of them were gorgeous, tall and dark-haired, slender as models and dressed in what was probably several hundred dollars worth of designer clothes. They looked like they belonged on the pages of Vogue. KC swallowed, the lump sitting heavier in her stomach. "Wh-who are they?"

"This is René Pinasco, and her daughters Emilia and Bethany. She's my agent, and she's the one responsible for setting up the showings in Manhattan and Boston. She's done a remarkable job of getting the word out about my art. She has contacts all over the world. She thinks I can go far, that I've got something special to say with my work, and she's making sure the world will hear it."

"Th-that's great, Dad," KC mumbled. "And?" Because she knew there was an "and" coming.

He took a deep breath. "Last month, I asked her to marry me. And she accepted. The wedding will be held in six months, after which we'll be moving to Rome. The girls will be attending college there, you see. They're eighteen. Twins, you know."

"Right. Twins. Of course," she mumbled. "So, you'll move away and I'll never see you again, is that it?"

"Of course not!" He actually had the gall to look hurt. "I'm not going to just drop off the face of the planet! Look, the phone I got you is international, so you can call any time you like, and of course we'll have you out to visit. Italy is beautiful, you'd love it out there!"

"Dad, I haven't seen or talked to you in a _year_, and you only live on the other side of the country. Do you _really_ expect me to believe you'll actually remember my existence, living with a brand new family on the other side of the _world_?" KC asked, her voice tight with growing anger.

"Kit Kat, don't be like that," he sighed. "You know when I'm working I lose all track of time. I didn't mean to forget your birthday, but I was working on a special commission that had to be completed and … I'm lousy at remembering dates and stuff. Always have been. You know that."

"That why Mom finally kicked you out? Missed one too many anniversaries?"

Chris's expression grew stern. "KC, I'm sorry I've been a disappointment to you. But I'm still your father. I'd like you to treat me with some respect."

"Then why don't you go hang out with your new daughters!" she snapped, jumping to her feet. "They look like they'll be a lot less of a disappointment than I obviously am! Have a nice flight back to California." She stormed out of the kitchen without another word.

* * *

><p>Kimiko barely heard the doorbell over the Christmas music blasting from the radio in her kitchen, where she and Brady were in the midst of baking cookies for the family get-together the next day. "Could you get that?" she called, holding up her doughy hands.<p>

"Rockin' arooouuund the Christmas treeee! Have a haaappy ho-li-daaay!" Brady sang as she danced to the door and pulled it open. Her voice faltered when she saw KC standing there, taking one good look at her face before grabbing her by the arm to yank her into the warm house. "Kimi! Cookies and cocoa, _STAT_!" she hollered, and a moment later the music shut off as Kimiko hurried into the living room.

"Where the hell's your coat?" she gasped, herding KC to the couch. "Good grief, did you _walk _here like that?"

"I've w-walked t-to your ho-house plenty of t-times," KC protested around her chattering teeth.

"Not in thirty degree weather and no coat you haven't!"

"Never mind that," Brady cut in. "What's wrong? Something happened, didn't it? Come on, tell Auntie Brady _all_ about it."

KC opened her mouth to spill the story, and promptly burst into tears. It took some effort, but she managed to relate the whole disastrous visit from beginning to end around her sobs, earning sympathetic coos and tuts from her friends, who sat beside her alternately handing out tissues and rubbing her cold shoulders. "And that's when I just took off and left him in the kitchen," she finished, blowing her nose into a well-used Kleenex.

"Serves him right," Kimiko groused. "Springing news like that on his only daughter. On Christmas, no less!"

"What a jackass," Brady agreed.

"That's my d-dad you're talking about," KC sniffled.

"Sorry. But … what a _jackass_!"

KC released a watery giggle, despite her sour mood. "Well, least now I know why he dropped off the planet. Too busy getting to know his pretty new daughters to remember he even had an old one."

"I bet they're not so hot. That picture was _totally_ 'shopped," Brady said.

"You haven't even seen it. Besides, it's one of my dad's. He doesn't 'shop his photos."

"Well, they're both probably dumb as a brick. The step-mom, too. The IQ between 'em probably won't even reach double-digits," Kimiko offered.

"They're smart enough to get into some college in Rome. That's why he's moving them all down there. I'll be lucky to pass high school."

"Okay, I give up trying to cheer you up. They're all gorgeous and perfect and you'll never hold a candle to any of them and your dad loves them more. There. Is that what you wanna hear?"

KC threw a couch pillow at her. "Bitch."

"Thank you. I try."

"But seriously, Kit Kat, don't fuss it. Think of it as the opportunity of a lifetime," Brady cut in. "I mean, after _that_ awesome display of storming out, can you _imagine_ the guilt trip he must be on? He'll probably buy you expensive presents like that for _life_. Hey, hey, next time try to guilt him into buying you a new car!"

KC cracked up, her mood lifting somewhat. She could always count on her friends to make her feel better. "I missed you guys _so much_," she cried, dragging them into a bear hug. "The last month has been practically un_bear_able without you!"

"Uh…" They glanced at each other, confused.

Too late, KC realized her mistake. "I-I mean since yesterday. The last twelve _hours_ have been unbearable," she stuttered.

"_Riiiiight,_" Brady drawled. "_That's_ what you meant." She arched an eyebrow and made circles around her ear, before KC punched her in the arm.

"Shut up!"

* * *

><p>She found herself being dragged into the kitchen to help finish the cookies, after being bribed with all the raw dough she could stomach. Glad to think about anything else but her impending step-family (who she didn't expect to ever actually meet, anyway), she threw herself into rolling out dough and cutting shapes with gusto.<p>

After a few minutes, she felt someone's eyes on her and glanced up to find both of her friends looking at her strangely. She blinked. "What? Do I have flour in my hair or something?"

"Noooo," Kimiko began, thoughtfully. "Well, yeah, actually. But it's not that."

"When did you lose weight?" Brady asked.

"Huh?" KC glanced down at herself, astonished. Lose weight? Her?

Come to think of it, the ratty jeans and old _Labyrinth_ T-shirt she was wearing did seem a little loose. But she was so excited about being home that she'd hardly given it any thought when she pulled them on. Now, she found herself hitching up the pants a bit; they hung a little lower on her hips than was usual. She'd never bothered with a belt before, but it looked like she might have to invest in one, or risk an accidental wardrobe malfunction. The realization that she _did_ seem to be thinner cheered her immensely. It looked like all that running around in Konan—coupled with being sick and not eating much while there—had done what no amount of half-assed dieting had ever accomplished before. "Huh. How about that," she muttered, holding up her arm to poke at her bicep. Yep, there was definitely less flab than usual. _Awesome!_

"Okay, what gives?" Kimiko demanded. "You really _did_ lose weight. I mean, even since yesterday! Like, what? Five or six pounds? And … you have a tan! In the middle of winter! You didn't have that yesterday, either!"

KC gulped, suddenly not so cheerful. "Uhhh…" How was she supposed to explain? Running around for a month in Konan's summer weather had definitely darkened her skin, but again she hadn't noticed until it was pointed out to her. Well, _that_ she could probably excuse away with a salon tanning bed, but no _way_ would she convince her friends that she'd managed to drop so much weight in less than twenty-four hours. She tried anyway. "I was … uh … sick. You know. The cold and all." She coughed, lamely. "Guess it affected my appetite."

"Nice try," Kimiko snorted.

"What about your _hair_?" Brady added, her gaze now more than a little suspicious.

"What _about_ my hair?" KC grabbed locks of it with both hands, examining it carefully for any oddity. It looked perfectly normal to her. Except … when was the last time she'd cut it? She thought for a second. Mei Lin had trimmed an inch or two off the ends with a razor, right before KC had left for the mountain. She didn't _think_ it was much longer than it had been before her impromptu vacation.

"Your _highlights_," Brady pointed out. "The ones you just got _last weekend_. You've got like a month's worth of growth in them already! How'd _that_ happen?"

"Aw, shit. Forgot about that." She banged her fist against her forehead.

"Okay, this is all too weird for words. What's going _on_ with you?" Kimiko demanded. "You're not trying some freaky new diet that's whacking out your body, are you?"

"Of course not! You know I hate dieting," she joked weakly.

"Then _what_?"

KC groaned. "You'll _never_ believe me. Not in a hundred, million years. You'll think I'm insane!"

The two girls glanced at each other, then back at their squirming friend. "Try us."

She sighed. "Okay. Just remember, you asked for this." Glancing at Brady, "So, remember our phone conversation last night? About the man-eating book and the flaming peacock and all…?"


End file.
